Quality DNA

by Beth Martin

  The pain intensified as something cold pressed against her lower abdomen. That’s the last thing she remembered before it all went black.

  nineteen

  Aiden sat next to her, holding a cold towel to her head. Irene looked up at him. She felt dazed and happy, surely the effect of some sort of drug.

  “I was able to save the ovary,” he said.

  “Good.” Saving things was good.

  “I guessed correctly that the infection was Staphylococcus. I injected a targeted antibiotic directly into your pelvis which killed the bacteria. Of course, there was the chance that I was wrong about the type of infection, in which case we would have been too late and you would have died. Even though you lost the pregnancy, you shouldn’t have any trouble conceiving again.”

  She tried to sit up, but he held her shoulder down. “I’m glad you guessed correctly,” she said.

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It was more than a lucky guess. I do have a medical degree.”

  She tried to sit up again, and this time he helped her up. She glanced around the room. They were still in the farmhouse. Had she ever gone to the medical facility, or had she been treated right here on the sofa?

  “Amir has a medical degree,” she said.

  “Ah, yes,” Aiden said, stretching his arms. “One of my better aliases. I’m glad you found it.”

  “If Amir and Aiden are fake, then who are you?” she asked, searching his face.

  “I’m Aiden Stone, of course,” he answered. “Founder and president of AQD.”

  “But Aiden Stone doesn’t exist,” she said.

  “Sure he does,” he said, standing up to face her. “It’s the name I use and the profession I made. It’s the name printed on my identification along with an image of my likeness. Aiden Stone is who I’ve chosen to be, so for all purposes, I am Aiden.”

  “But, the FBI…” The words slipped out before she could stop herself. If he didn’t already know she was working with them, now he definitely would.

  “The FBI have their own weird criteria for what makes a man. According to them, I’m a monster. They would never give Aiden Stone any legitimacy. In fact, I believe they’d prefer it if I remained test subject seventeen.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  Aiden’s eyes lit up, a fire behind them. He started pacing around and gesturing widely as he talked. “You and I are the same now. Medical experiments. But if you were to birth a child, it wouldn’t really be your child, now would it? The woman whose egg formed the child would be identified as the mother by the Genome Database.

  “Even though your status as an experiment is newly earned, mine began at birth. I was engineered to maximize the potential locked in human DNA. I was raised by the state, and even so, excelled in academics and sports. I was always the healthiest, smartest, and best-looking kid. When I reached adulthood, I decided that becoming a surgeon would be the best use of my talents. I finished med school in just two years.

  “Even my personal life came easy. I’ve always had lots of friends and admirers. I met a beautiful woman in college. She started a lucrative career managing real estate after graduation. Her family was wealthy beyond measure, yet still accepted me as their son-in-law. It seems that my superior DNA, handcrafted by a research group on an NSF grant, had provided me with everything a man could desire.

  “With both our careers booming, we decided it was time to have our allotted one baby. We were both excited about this monumental endeavor. Part of the human condition is having and raising a child, and this was the final chance for me to prove that I was indeed a real boy and not just a successful experimental puppet.”

  His eyes were wide and wild now as he paced quickly around the room. Irene was curious to hear the conclusion of his monologue, but also trying to figure out a way to get free. She didn’t have her car, and in her current condition she couldn’t run far. Her only hope was that he wouldn’t do her any harm as long as the ovary inside her was fine.

  “We tried to get pregnant for over a year. Soon, it became a sore topic in our marriage, slowly ripping us apart. Finally, I convinced her to go to a fertility clinic and get checked out. Everything seemed fine on her part, so now the blame sat on me.”

  He stopped pacing and pointedly looked at Irene. “You know what a mule is?”

  Whatever happy drugs she had been on, all the optimism immediately left her system. She was sure Aiden had come unhinged and would attack her without warning. “No,” she said cautiously. “No I don’t.”

  “Back when farming used animals instead of equipment, mules were bred by studding a male donkey with a female horse. They are superior to both species in several ways, yet are sterile, because their chromosomes don’t pair up. Similarly, my experimental DNA isn’t balanced, so I can’t shoot any quality sperm. Instead of fulfilling my biological purpose, my wife was shopping around for donor sperm to meet our parentage goal.

  “See, I was bred just like a farm animal. The research facility that created me shut down soon after my creation, and there aren’t any other people like me. So to answer your question: who am I? I’m not even a human. I’m the result of a reckless experiment.”

  Irene’s mouth hung open in shock. She hadn’t known anything about scientific studies creating actual people and wasn’t sure whether or not to believe him.

  “After I left my first wife, I started again as Amir. Patrick Tanaka, whom I believe you’ve met, and I started working together. He was harvesting men’s family jewels for an experiment, some sort of drug. I, however, saw the true potential in all the genetic material we had amassed. We could reuse the genetic material from some of our more successful clientele. Make designer children, like I was originally meant to be, in a more organic and natural way.”

  She recalled the birth certificate for the son who died. “Your son…”

  “Yes. I couldn’t sire a baby myself, but I still wanted the experience of raising a kid. Even though my colleague acted as donor, our son was truly mine. He’s the reason I started AQD. Plus, I already had all those beautiful testes in my freezer. It was time to put them to use.”

  Every part of his confession made her feel sick. But one point nagged her enough to ask, “If you can’t have children, why’d you offer to be a donor for Jamie?”

  “Because I wanted to have her. She’s beautiful. She reminds me of my second wife, Amy-Marie. It was so easy to manipulate Jamie. Too easy, really. I just had to compliment her art, then act like I was conflicted about helping her. You know, she threw herself at me first.”

  Irene didn’t want to believe it, any of it. He had used her wife and was now using her.

  He smiled at her. “But you, Irene. You’re my first female success. I have great plans for you. I’ve finally succeeded at what I set out to do.”

  Irene looked him straight in the eye from where she still sat on the sofa. “Have you? You still can’t father a child. You’re a failure.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Aiden lunged at her, wrapping his strong hands around her neck. She couldn’t breathe as he squeezed harder, his eyes bulging and his teeth clenched.

  “I’m not a failure,” he growled.

  She started to see stars in the center of her vision, but before she could black out, he let go. Coughing, she collapsed onto the couch. “If I could, I’d kill you,” he hissed. “But right now, you’re too valuable.” He grabbed her wrist and started dragging her across the room. She tried to get her feet under her, but couldn’t. Instead, she flailed behind him as he grabbed onto both of her wrists and dragged her up the stairs.

  He threw her into a bedroom and shut the door behind her. There was a metal clanking of a key turning in the lock. “You’re too important to let out of my sight. You can earn your freedom in nine months after you successfully carry a baby to term, not a minute before.” She heard his footsteps as he retreated down the stairs.

  She looked around the bedroom. It wasn’t too dissimilar fr
om a holding cell. It had a bed with a thin mattress and threadbare quilt, a braided rug on the wooden floor, and a small wooden vanity with a shelf holding a porcelain pot which undoubtedly was meant to be a replacement for a toilet.

  Sitting down heavily on the bed, Irene examined herself. She was wearing the clothing Annette gave her. Her slacks were stained and stiff from the dark blue liquid and her shirt was smelly and damp with sweat. Lifting her shirt, she saw the tape and gauze covering the injection site for her dose of antibiotics. She pulled away the tape to reveal a large red scab surrounded by deep purple bruising. That entire side of her pelvis still felt sore. Her whole body was weak. With nothing else to do, she lied down to take a nap.

  Her eyes shot open a moment later, realizing a key detail. She dug her hand through the pocket in her pants. Even though the box cutter was gone, something was still there. She pulled the object out and examined it, the asset card from the FBI. As long as she still had that card, she could hold out in the hopes that someone would come rescue her.

  ··OOO··

  After spending the third day in a row visiting the hospital, Annette was exhausted. Her parents kept making such a fuss over Ray and Clara’s new baby, but she knew Ophelia was cuter. For one, Ophelia had adorable baby rolls while Charlie was scrawny and bald.

  But now that she was resting at home, watching a show with Ophelia napping in her arms, she still couldn’t relax. Irene had been gone for a couple days, and she was starting to worry.

  “Call Jamie Crow,” she said. She rocked Ophelia gently while the line rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. Have you heard from Irene?”

  “No. I thought she was with you.” Jamie sounded annoyed.

  “What about Aiden? Is he there?”

  “No… He’s been busy with work. I haven’t seen him in a couple days.”

  Annette had kept a close eye on the news. She hadn’t seen any stories covering male deaths, but if Jamie hadn’t seen him, maybe Irene had already taken care of him. “If you see either of them, could you let me know?”

  “Sure, whatever.” The line disconnected.

  Annette thought about calling the FBI, but decided not to. If Irene’s plan was supposed to take this long, she didn’t want to do anything to get in the way. She believed in Irene. Irene would get it done.

  Still, there was a nagging feeling in her gut. “Track Irene Crow.” She had convinced Irene to let her scan the asset card into her device, but so far, it proved completely useless.

  “System error. Unable to track.” That couldn’t be good.

  “Call Elijah.” Maybe he would know something Annette didn’t.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. I’m Irene’s friend. I know this is weird, but I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “She left soon after you dropped her off. I haven’t seen her in days, and I’m worried about her.” Annette paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “She went after that guy, Aiden, her boss at the DNA cult. I think she might be in danger. She doesn’t have a device so I can’t call her, but maybe there is some way to find her. The FBI gave her an asset card to track her… I thought maybe you would know a way to trace it.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it wasn’t possible. Not unless he could somehow hack into the FBI.

  “I don’t. But I know someone who might.”

  ··OOO··

  Irene had been locked up in the tiny bedroom for maybe four days and she needed to find a way out. Each evening, Sean visited to give her hormone injections. The first time, she resisted, which resulted in Aiden coming to her room and strapping her wrists and ankles to the bed in order to administer the shot, then leaving her restrained there for the night. They wanted her new ovary to produce as many eggs at it could. She didn’t want to think about what would happen once the ovary was ovulating. It would definitely involve the restraints. She winced, trying to push the thought out of her head.

  To distract herself, she continued bending the FBI asset card back and forth. She had been able to break off the corner of the plastic card holding the chip. Rubbing the raw edges against the floor, the sharp torn corners began to wear down. Her plan was risky at best, but she had to do something.

  After the initial shock of getting locked up wore off, she concentrated on what she needed to do next. Her number one goal was to stop Aiden. Not dismantle AQD or reveal his medical experiments, but remove Aiden, even if that meant killing him. Her second goal was to escape. When she really thought about it, if she had to die in order to take out Aiden, she was okay with that.

  Her final goal, which came in a far third, was to stop the destruction of the Genome Database. If she got out of the farmhouse alive, she would contact Jo, but if she wasn’t able to warn the FBI in time, at least she would have her life.

  She looked at the small micro chip one last time before placing it on her tongue and swallowing. God forbid the worst happened, at least the FBI would be able to find her body.

  Next, she needed something sharp, something that could cause some damage without being fatal. She thought about using the metal wire from one of the mattress springs or a large splinter from the worn wooden floor. The bedroom had a small window and, after inspecting it for a while, she was pretty confident it was made out of normal glass instead of the insulated safety panes which were standard in most residences. In a pinch, she could use the chamber pot, but considering the lingering smell, she preferred the window.

  Irene grabbed the hand towel from the vanity and wrapped it around her right hand. She tried to sit on the bed and wait patiently, going through the details of her plan over and over. Outside the window, she saw the sun was starting to set. Any moment now, Sean would come upstairs and let himself into her room to give her the daily injection.

  She waited. After a few minutes, she heard the sounds of approaching footsteps climbing the stairs. Tightening the towel on her hand, she took one last deep breath. She was ready. She stood up and walked over to the small window.

  The door opened and Sean came into the room holding a syringe. “You ready?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  “No,” Irene said. “I need to talk to Aiden first.”

  “Be a good girl and sit on the bed,” he said. “Then maybe Aiden can come up here and talk to you.”

  She pressed her body against the wall next to the window. “I want to talk to him first.”

  He took a step toward her. She needed him to keep his distance. “Would you like me to restrain you?” He came another stride closer. It was now or never.

  She thrust her towel-covered fist through the window with all her might. The window cracked and split, shards of glass flying outside. Breaking off a big chunk of glass, she jabbed it at Sean. “Step back,” she warned.

  He lifted his hands in the air, still holding the syringe. “Let’s not do anything rash,” he said, stepping back.

  Irene waved the shard of glass at him. “I need to talk to Aiden.”

  “He doesn’t want to see you,” he said. “You need to calm down. Drop the piece of glass or else I’ll be forced to restrain you.”

  She knew she probably wouldn’t fare well in a fight against Sean. Attacking him wouldn’t help her get Aiden’s attention, but she knew what would. She lifted her shirt and placed the glass against her skin, right above where her new ovary was placed.

  “Stop!” he shouted. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

  “Maybe I will,” Irene said, plunging the glass through her skin, pointing it down low into her pelvis. Her body was so full of adrenaline, she didn’t feel the cutting of the glass at first. Dark blood dripped from the sharp edges of the shard. The red stain on the towel started to grow, and the front of her slacks were now wet with blood. She couldn’t look down. The sight of so much blood would make her lose her resolve. “You should go tell Aiden what I’ve done,” she said.

  Sean ran out of the room, shouting for Aiden. She dropped the bl
oody piece of glass before breaking a smaller shard from the window and holding it in her towel. A moment later, Aiden came barreling into the room, Sean following closely behind.

  “You bitch!” he roared. He ran up to her and grabbed her by the neck. As she struggled to breathe, she tried to remain calm. She could see the pure fury in his face. He wanted to kill her, but she knew he’d also want to save his experiment. “Get some gauze and medical tape,” he shouted. Sean scurried out of the room.

  With one hand he pressed her neck against the wall and with the other, he applied pressure to her wound. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he said. He was still angry, his jaw clenched. She could see an artery bulging on the side of his neck. She tried to focus on that artery.

  “I needed to see you again,” she said. “I needed to tell you something.”

  “You better tell me now before I sedate you for the next several months,” he sneered. “What’s so important that you needed to tell me to my face?”

  “This.” She swung her fist at his neck, the small shard of glass making contact with his carotid. Blood flowed down, quickly soaking the last white bits of her towel, along with Aiden’s collared shirt. She twisted the glass before pulling her hand away. He stumbled back, a look of shock on his face as blood sprayed from his wound.

  “You bitch,” he said before crumpling onto the ground.

  Sean came into the room and saw Aiden lying on the floor, the pool of his blood growing around his limp body.

  “You’re next,” she sneered. Sean turned and ran back out.

  Irene chanced a glance down at her pelvis. She was bleeding a lot. She had cut much deeper than she originally intended. With the immediate threat of Aiden now taken care of, the acute pain of the gash in her abdomen hit her. She stumbled down to her knees and had to crawl. She pulled herself up onto the bed. There had to be a quick way to stop the bleeding.

  Ripping off a strip of the quilt, she tied it tightly around her hips to cover the gash. She ripped off a second piece and did the same. Now she had to get out of here. She stood up and stumbled through the bedroom. Her improvised bandage made it hard to move her legs, and even harder to walk. Not sure if Sean would bring someone else to subdue her, she hurried to get away from the farmhouse.